


Say So

by Mythological Freak (starfreckledchild)



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art Modeling, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Hades is a fine ass art professor, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Older Man/Younger Woman, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Tension, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension, but he has them too so its ok, but she might loose her scholarship, but this minthe is a little more chill, demeter is proud her little girl made it into harvard, fancy pants, hades is insecure, hades tries to hide his feelings, inspired by a Doja Cat song, minthe is such an attention seeker, needless to say it goes nowhere, persephone and apollo try to date buuuut, persephone has feelings for a professor, persephone is a college student at Harvard, persephone knows what she wants, tsk tsk, which is a big no no, you want it say so Hades
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfreckledchild/pseuds/Mythological%20Freak
Summary: Persephone, affectionately known as Kore, is on her second year of college when she decides to take up a small modeling gig at her school's art department.Nothing too complicated, right? At least it seems so until, despite herself, she starts catching feelings for Hades Underworld, the art professor supervising her work.Inspired by the song Say So, by Doja Cat.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 117





	1. Classroom 99, Building I, Department of Art, Film and Visual Studies.

**Author's Note:**

> Isn't it fun to have nothing else to do but essays, essays, and more essays (with the occasional exception of other types of homework) during this beautiful quarantine? My fingers already hurt from typing, and my brain has got nothing else to contribute to society, so I might as well start writing all the crazy things I dream about.
> 
> Quick clarification regarding the tags:
> 
> Persephone and Apollo "date" in this fic, but it's more like Apollo approached Persephone and insisted until she gave in and now she doesn't know how to tell him she wants nothing to do with him. I took the liberty of interpreting what their relationship in the original LO was like because I didn't get to read that version but I understand they used to date before the comic was featured. I do also want to give out a warning for some dubious consent situations AND Apollo pressuring to do things that Persephone isn't comfortable with doing (although I might change that depending on my mood).
> 
> This hasn't been beta read, and is currently working as a draft I intend to build upon. I'm uploading this just to force myself to continue it.

**DRAWING 1: _DRAWING AS A VISUAL ART_**

**_A studio course to build the skills of drawing incrementally and expand students’ visual vocabulary. Drawings will be made from life, photographs, and invention. Emphasis will be placed on enhancing our observational sensibilities through life drawing and the human figure, focusing on all aspects of technical development, particularly the importance of line. The aim of this course is to expand drawing skills with intention and purpose._ **

Persephone’s late for class. 

Well, not _class_ , but close enough that she still feels a mix of guilt and panic swirl through her veins as she runs down the hallway of the Arts Department. Curse Eros and his insistence on helping her get ready! She was only supposed to get there and stand still for two hours and a half while a bunch of pretentious art students drew her (who even goes to _Harvard_ to study _art_ , anyway?). And she was supposed to be there on time. Persephone _hates_ tardiness. It is her first day, and this was the impression they would have of her. Just great. 

It didn’t help that she was nothing but a meek biochemistry sophomore, still fresh out of homeschooling, who mostly kept to herself. She didn’t like to think of herself as someone who was particularly naive or shy, but even she had to admit that her strict upbringing was a little more than sheltered. 

_It’s going to be alright_ , she tells herself once she stands in front of the classroom door. A small plaque beside the door reads _99,_ the little Post-It with all the information she had thought necessary confirms this was the classroom. Her hand lingers on the doorknob. Why does she feel nervous? She’d been sheltered her whole life, yes, but she’d never had any qualms about nudity before, or people in general. Her mother was surprisingly open-minded about naturism and the human body, despite her uptight beliefs in chastity and the importance of marriage. 

Persephone goes over the details she’s ingrained into her head.

_Classroom 99, Building I, Department of Art, Film, and Visual Studies._

_Drawing 1: Drawing as a visual art. Taught by Hades Underworld._

For some reason, Persephone is more scared of arriving late to this class than not arriving at all. She doesn’t know why exactly, but maybe perhaps because she’s heard stories about the so-called Professor Underworld from Psyche, Eros’ girlfriend. It seems that all art students who’d gone under Professor Underworld’s tutelage had _something_ to say about him, but not necessarily nice things. They all agreed on one fact though: however ruthless and unforgiving he was, the man knew what he taught. 

Perhaps she is scared because she’s heard that above everything, the man despises tardiness, and would not think twice before locking a student out of his class for the smallest infraction. 

_I’m not technically his student though..._ she rationalizes, gathering up some courage and daring to knock on the door, lest she’d be even later than she already was due to her indecisiveness. 

There is a moment of silence after her knock, and Persephone holds her breath, praying to whatever deity would hear her that he wouldn't just ignore her. 

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what he did. 

After a good ten minutes, Persephone sags, realizing she’s going to have to go through the humiliation of being left outside for arriving late. Her eyes become hot with soon to come tears, but she wills herself to not shed a single one of them. There is no reason for her to cry, even if she feels like shit. She hates how emotional she gets over nothing, and part of her wishes she was a little stronger and not so sensitive.

Eros calls her a pretty crier. 

Persephone doesn’t want to be a crybaby. Period. 

She checks her phone. She now has two hours to spare. However, she can’t just bring herself to leave without saying anything, so begrudgingly, she sits down on the corridor right next to the door, determined to catch Professor Underworld after his class is over.

And so she spends two hours sitting on the cold floor, taking the opportunity to catch up on some homework, mindlessly nibbling on the small snack she packed on her bag. After a while, her ass gets numb and she’s about to doze off when the distant sound of a bell chiming and feet shuffling knock her back to reality. Her eyes widen once she checks the time on her phone. _5:45_. 

“Sugasnaps,” she mumbles, realizing that 1) class is over and 2) her phone battery is about to die. Persephone quickly picks up her things, which had been messily sprawled on the floor, and shoves them back into her bag, jumping to her feet at the same time the door for classroom 99 slams open and a hoard of young adults swarms out of the classroom. Nobody pays any attention to her as she sneaks her way into the classroom, playing nervously with the hem of her coat. 

It’s October, and the temperature is barely over 17° degrees, comfortably chill for Autumn in Cambridge, yet Persephone is thankful for the warmer atmosphere inside the classroom. She’s always been a little thin-blooded when it comes to the cold, having grown up in the much warmer Southern California. 

The classroom is almost empty, and she’s a little taken aback by the setting. Unlike the other classrooms she’s been in, this one is completely leveled, and there is no pit in the front with a podium. It’s open and wide, and what must be art supply closets line up the walls in the back. There is one common feature, however, and that is the large chalkboards on either side of the more modern whiteboard. Her eyes scan the large classroom until they bump with a desk on a far corner at the front, a rather tall man Persephone presumes to be Professor Underworld is standing with his back to her, talking to a student.

Persephone advances towards them, biting the inside of her cheek. She leans against the chalkboard nearest to them, waiting patiently for him to dismiss the other student before introducing herself. She’s never seen Professor Underworld, but she knows about how strict he is, and for a man with such a stern reputation, she had expected someone much older and... _severe_ looking. She’s a little caught by surprise however with his sturdy profile and eye-catching aura. 

Her eyes drink in whatever little of his face she can see from her position. Chiseled is an adjective that would describe him well, for he reminded Persephone of a classical statue carved in marble with his prominent Greek nose, protruding jawline, and thin lips. 

She lowers her eyes as soon as she realizes she’s staring. How embarrassing would it be had he caught her? She stares at her ankle boots instead, a funny sensation she can’t quite put her finger on settling at the bottom of her stomach. 

“I don’t recall seeing you in my class, miss..?” A strong voice suddenly speaks. Persephone shots her head forward, realizing suddenly the other student had left, and that Professor Underworld was now looking at her. 

Her cheeks flood with blood as she meets his eyes for the first time. “I’m not part of your class.” She finds herself saying, straightening her back. She notices his eyes flick downward for half a second, apparently taking her in. She’s thankful Eros had insisted on helping her pick out her outfit because knowing herself she would have just shown up with some jeans and an unflattering sweater. Not that she wanted to impress anyone in particular, but this somehow felt like a job interview, and Persephone knew how much first impressions mattered. “I’m Persephone Fiori, I was assigned to your class.” There’s something inside her mouth that’s making it impossible for her to speak as she normally does, fluently, as if a knot was being tied with her tongue, and she doesn’t know why. 

Professor Underworld rakes his eyes over her once again, this time apparent recognition sparking in them. He hums. “Ah, I see. You’re the model? You’re a little shorter than what I imagined, but I suppose that won’t be a problem. You do have lovely anatomical proportions. Hades Underworld, a pleasure to meet you.” He extends a hand in her direction, a pleasant smile on his face. Persephone’s rooted to her spot, and can’t help but frown a little. There’s that stupid blush again, and she doesn’t know if she should be offended or flattered by his words. She’s well aware she is shorter than most, but she never thought that it would be an inconvenience. _What an odd man._ Nonetheless, she smiles back, taking a step forward and shaking his hand with her own. His hand is warm and calloused, and so much bigger than her own. All of him is much bigger than herself, she notes, feeling almost like an ant beside his imposing stature. Persephone has to crane her head back to look at him properly. “I must admit, Miss Fiori, I had been expecting you much earlier.” There’s that charming smile once again. 

Persephone steps a little to the side and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Yes, I’m sorry. I had a situation that held me back much longer than I had anticipated. I--I knocked on the door when I arrived.” She admits bashfully, her cheeks burning bright pink. 

“So that was you? I apologize, I didn’t realize. You see, I don’t appreciate tardiness very much.” He explains, moving about his desk, packing his belongings. Persephone follows him with her eyes, stepping a little closer. 

“Yes, of course, I promise it’s unlike me to be late to anything. It won’t happen again.” She puts as much meaning as she can into her words, squaring her shoulders a little bit. Professor Underworld stares at her yet again, a small grin on his face. Persephone notices, with that goddamn eternal blush on her face, a small indentation on his cheek as he does so. 

“Glad to hear that. I assume your role was explained to you at the administration office, right?” He asks, eyes fixed firmly on her own. They are a deep blue, like the faraway sea, extending into the horizon. There are specks of gold surrounding the pupil.

“The basics yeah, but they didn’t go into much detail. I was informed I might have to pose nude?” The truth is, they had been very vague with the specifics at the head of the art department. And yeah, she had ransacked the internet in search of information on what to expect, but then she still didn’t know what Mr. Underworld would specifically require her. Looking at him now, she swallowed thickly at the thought of stripping naked. 

He nodded curtly once, shoving his hands into the pockets of his smart suit. “Not always, but it might be required of you. However, it’s completely up to you how much of your body you’re willing to show. If you ever feel uncomfortable with any of my students, feel free to express yourself, but please don’t worry about any sorts of harassment. We have very strict policies regarding that in the Art Department.” His voice is deep and so masculine Persephone can feel it thrumming softly through her ear, sending a spike of warmth down her spine. She feels oddly at ease, hearing him speak. “There are around 20 students in this class. You will have to hold each pose for an hour or so, but you will receive breaks every 30 minutes. Are you comfortable with that?” 

_One hour each pose?_ Persephone gulped. She’d never been passionate about art, sure she appreciated beauty and aesthetics as much as the next girl, but it’s not like she'd felt a pull on her soul for it. She could think of better things to do than stand naked in the middle of a room while a bunch of fellow students immortalized her every nook and crevice on paper, under _his_ direct scrutiny. But she needed the money, and her tight schedule didn’t allow her much wriggle room. She bit the inside of her cheek, apprehensive now. 

“I understand, and I am comfortable with all that! I am also willing to pose naked, but I will appreciate it greatly if you could give me a heads up in hindsight, Mr. Underworld. Uh, also, are you sure my height isn’t going to be a problem? I-I could always wear heels if necessary.” Something twitched on his face as soon as she spoke, and Persephone could swear the room had grown warmer. Her belly churned with a sudden warmth she could not appoint to anything she had felt before.

She wasn’t too excited about having to stand still in high heels, but they were paying 25 dollars an hour. She could surely bear some sore feet for that. 

“Miss Fiori, please don’t worry about your height. You’re going to make a perfect model anyway, as I said before, your body is beautifully proportionate.” His eyes disclosed so much more than his stoic face did, yet Persephone could understand nothing of what they spoke. But there it was again, him complimenting her. Twice now. If she could blush anymore, she would have. “For painting, I mean.” He searched for something on his desk before coming up with a manila folder. He flipped through it. “So you’re 19 years old and a biochemistry undergraduate, is that correct?” He looks at her expectantly, the fire in her belly dances. 

“Yes.” She feels breathless. Thankfully she can keep it out of her words. She’s swimming in those deep blue eyes of his and loves the way she feels when he looks at her. 

“Well then, I expect you to be here at 3:00 pm sharp next Thursday. Wear something comfortable but not too layered, the class will be sketching the basic female silhouette. You will not have to undress.” He finally explains, calmly, stuffing the manila folder into his bag and zipping it shut. Persephone shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

“Understood. Once again, I’m so sorry I didn’t make it on time. It won’t happen again.” She speaks apologetically now, twirling one of her short strands of hair before pushing it behind her ear. He turns towards the door and Persephone follows him. One step of his equals four of hers, but they make it work. 

“Yes, I hope. Good evening, Miss Fiori.” 

“Good evening, Mr. Underworld.” 

He offers her one last smile (that cursed dimple popping up again), she smiles back. They linger on that moment a second too long, and Persephone turns around quickly as soon as she realizes, tightening her steps down the corridor. There’s a knot on her throat, a dizzying sensation on her head. Why does her heart thrum erratically inside her chest, and why does her face feel so hot?

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! What was that back there with all the smiles? He’s a professor!_

_Silly little girl!_

And so, as if Fate itself had decided to take her as its object of mockery, once Persephone stepped outside, thunder rolls marked the prelude of some inevitable thing to come. 

She groaned, kicking herself for not bringing an umbrella. Or any sort of outfit fit for walking under the rain. The sky seemed to be falling, the downpour was aggressive and relentless in its ire, rhythmically slapping against the sidewalk in a loud and disoriented symphony. There was no way she would make it through unscathed. Persephone patted around her bag, searching for her phone. Dead. The blinking battery saluted her in mockery. 

“Perfect, simply perfect!” She cried out loud, realizing she was now trapped in building I until the downpour ceased, for her dorm was literally on the other side of campus. She stood there for a minute, contemplating whether to cry or risk catching pneumonia in the merciless weather. 

Persephone stared at the rain viciously, as if she could make it stop through sheer strength of will. 

Then she saw it as if God himself had shunned a light on it, there stood a payphone a few feet away from her. Persephone pulled some spare cash from her bag and decided to make a run for it, dashing through the freezing water.

She called Eros, the only number she knew by memory. 

But it rang, and rang and rang. And no one picked up. She tried again and still, no answer. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” She muttered, teeth clattering slightly as she trembled from the cold. She put down the phone back into the receiver, resigned now to her destiny. All she had left was to try and not die of hypothermia. Her white dress, which Eros had carefully picked out for her, was now stuck to her body like a second skin, and over it, her coat was weighed down by the water.

“Miss Fiori?” 

She jumped, caught by surprise. Her hair stuck to her face annoyingly. It was Hades. She almost choked on her spit at the sight of him, not a hair out of place. Then she notices the umbrella. Of course, he had one. Persephone concluded that she had to be the only idiot who didn’t have an umbrella on her during one of the rainiest seasons on campus. 

“Uh, hi.” She smiles as much as she can, but it’s hard to do so when she feels as if literal icicles were pricking the skin of her face, sending shivers down her trembling body. 

“Well, don’t you just stand there, you’ll get sick!” He exclaims, sounding a little irritated. But she doesn’t move, as if his presence had stupefied her. Hades sighs and places his hand behind her elbow softly, guiding her closer to him until she too stood underneath his umbrella. A shot of warmth spreads from where his fingers touch her skin, and if her whole body hadn’t already been covered in goosebumps, she was sure it was now. “Are you ok? You’re soaking wet.” He asks, his eyes inspecting her face thoroughly as if trying to determine if there was something wrong. _Well, of course, something is!_ Thought she. _I don’t have a mother-fudging umbrella, and I’m soaked!_

“I-thank you. The rain caught me by surprise, that’s all.” She answered meekly, rubbing her arms, trying to find some heat. She was positively freezing her way slowly towards death. Hades seemed to notice, for he promptly maneuvered with his free hand and managed to slip out of his heavy coat.

“I think you should get out of your coat first, or you’ll get sick.” He suggested, and Persephone nodded and shrugged it off. She realizes a moment too late that her thin white dress must have been sticking to her chest obscenely, and that at this point the dress must have been see-through. Persephone screws her eyes shut as he places his own warm and dry coat carefully over her shoulders, doing her hardest to ignore the fluttering in her stomach. It hangs off her frame like a too-large blanket, but it's warm and it smells like something akin to winter and forest fires. “There, now you’re warm. Do you have any way of getting back to your dorm?” 

Persephone bit the bottom of her lip, feeling a little like some pathetic damsel in distress. “Thank you. I think I’ll just wait inside the building until the rain stops a little, my phone battery is dead.” She rolled her shoulders a little, craning her neck to see him better. He nodded as if caught in thought.

“Well, this doesn’t seem like it will stop anytime soon. Here, take mine.” He finally offers, handing Persephone his umbrella. She steps back, shaking her head no, eyes blown open. 

“But what about you? You already gave me your coat, you’ll get wet too. I can’t take your umbrella, Mr. Underworld.” She tries to decline politely, but he insists. Persephone finally caves in, accepting the handle. Since she is multiple heads shorter than he is, he has to scoot down to fit under the umbrella now, and she giggles a little at that. “Thank you, Mr. Underworld. I promise I’ll bring your umbrella and coat to you on Thursday.” She’s mortified, to say the least. He shrugs slightly, smiling at her. He’s so much closer now that she is the one holding the umbrella, something in her chest weighs her down. 

“I’ll hold you to that. Are you comfortable walking back on your own, or would you like for me to call a security guard to escort you?” He’s right in front of her. Persephone stares right into those blue eyes with specks of gold in them. With him near, the smell of burning wood amplifies. 

“No, please, don’t worry! My dorm’s only 15 minutes away, I just have to go through the Yard.” She says hurriedly, twisting the handle in her fingers. He nods, straightening his back and stepping outside the umbrella, taking some of the warmth with him. He’s now standing underneath the relentless rain. “Thank you, again.” 

“No problem. Have a safe trip, Miss Fiori.” He waves her goodbye and sees her off. Once her back is turned to him again, she allows herself to look as flustered as she feels inside. 

_This might become a problem..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I obviously don't attend Harvard, as gratifying as being able to say that would be. I have literally zero knowledge about how the campus is structured besides the maps I have seen on their website, but even those are difficult to understand when you've never been there. I was originally intending to make this story take place at Yale since I'm personally acquainted with the campus and buildings, but New Haven is literally tucked in the ass of civilization, and I figured Boston would do a much better setting for future events. 
> 
> Fun fact: the class Hades teaches is an actual class at Harvard. I even took the liberty of using the same schedule as that class did :p


	2. The Golden Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Persephone's first official day as an art model.
> 
> She meets her roommate's brother for the first time.

_“ **Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty. [...] We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely. All art is quite useless.” OSCAR WILDE. THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY** _

The next time Persephone sees professor Underworld, it’s Thursday. 

She is sitting patiently on one of the chairs by the wall, her leg bounces with anticipation. He has not arrived yet, and there’s still twenty minutes until the class begins. This time her phone is charged fully and there’s a small travel umbrella buried somewhere in the depths of her purse. She’s had two days to think over what happened exactly on Tuesday, and she’s ready to admit to herself that she was a little caught off guard with his dorky and kinda cute face. And that was about it.

Persephone lowers her eyes to her lap, gaze focused on the coat neatly folded. She presses her lips into a thin line, smoothing any visible wrinkle in the fabric with her hands. She is suddenly bothered by its presence, a nagging reminder of him. She had personally taken it to the laundromat and made sure it was thoroughly washed, then she had gone the extra length and ironed it. It now smelled of her detergent and ironing spray. She’s a little mad she ironed it now because it will definitely look like she put too much effort into it. 

Persephone is about to ruffle it on purpose when professor Underworld steps through the doorway. 

“Professor Underworld!” She squeaks, shuffling to her feet immediately. Her hands clutch the coat tightly to her chest. Seemingly, he hadn’t noticed her presence yet, for he turns around and looks a little surprised by her. “Your coat!” She continues to ramble in that squeaky voice as she shoves the folded garment into his chest. He takes it, eyebrows arched in confusion. Persephone swallows down the knot in her throat as she hands him his umbrella as well, this time a little more carefully. “Sorry, it’s just the first day jitters. Thank you for the coat and umbrella, _again_.” She offers lamely, hugging herself and taking a step back. 

“Hello to you too, Miss. I see you made a point of arriving early.” There’s humor on his voice as he says this, the corner of his lip curling slightly in amusement. Persephone stares at him, not knowing what to say or do exactly. She feels off and out of her element, and she can’t quite put her finger on why exactly.

“I did make a promise, and I despise tardiness as well. I--uh, I also wanted to give you your stuff back before the other students arrived.” She lowers her voice as she says this last part, a little embarrassed. He simply nods and continues walking towards his desk. Persephone stays rooted to her spot, observing him with sheer curiosity. “So…” She trails, unsure of what to say, but dying to fill the silence with something. But right as she was about to open her mouth again, Fate intervened, and two students walked into the classroom, past Persephone, each towards their individual seat.

She shrinks back a little at their arrival, and finally opts to sit back down once again. She can feel their gaze on her now, wondering just who she is perhaps. Soon enough however, their attention diverts and the soft murmur of conversation fills the room. Persephone crosses her legs, then uncrosses them. She shifts in her seat and sits on her hands, only to fold them over her lap a second later.

As the clock ticks closer and closer to 3:00 pm, just a couple minutes before class begins, more and more students begin pouring inside the classroom. She assesses the new faces with uncertainty, knowing fully well that from now on, these strangers would know her body. The knowledge made her feel a little strange, but not uncomfortable just...odd. 

“Are you nervous?” The deep baritone she has come to recognize as Professor Underworld startles her. She turns her head with a blush. She seriously needs to stop being so panicky around him. Persephone shrugs a little, offering him a tiny smile.

“I think, yeah.” She relents, at last, accepting that, yes, she was nervous. Maybe she wouldn’t have to undress today, but eventually.

Professor Underworld offers her a sympathetic smile, it looks a little awkward on his face, and the stiffness on his body allows her to understand he is trying to be reassuring, but that he doesn’t know exactly how. She understands him, in away.

“You know, I once posed as an art model for a class as well. Many years ago, when I was much younger of course.” He added with a laugh. Persephone stared at him, eyes wide, curious. She tries to imagine this imposing man, naked and vulnerable.

Ok, maybe not naked. Ok, yes maybe naked. Ok, _WHAT THE FUCK, BACKTRACK, MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER NOW, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?_

Persephone blushes even harder, and she is unable to look at him in the eyes now. 

“I know it can be a little challenging the first few times, but you’ll get used to it. I promise.” 

“It’s...I don’t feel uncomfortable per se it’s just a weird feeling.” He nods. Persephone takes him in properly now. He’s not wearing a suit today, but dark dress pants and a white button up. Even now, she’s still a little lost with how young he looks in comparison to her other professors. He doesn’t seem to be much older than forty, at much. 

“Very good, I should probably leave you alone now, the class is about to start.” 

Persephone waves meekly and he bows his head in her direction before turning on his heel and walking towards the door to her right. As he walks past her, a whiff of his cologne reaches her, and she remembers his coat and how lovely it had smelled before she had to wash it. 

_Enough._

Professor Underworld closes the door, and the click of the lock signals the beginning of class.

After that, Persephone can’t say she pays much attention to whatever he is explaining. She does still feel the heavy glances of eyes in her direction every now and then, but she busies herself with one of the books she always carries with her. What feels like hours pass by as she reads, comfortably tucked away in her corner of the classroom, but she knows it to be no more than minutes when she hears her name being spoken. This time, she does not jump in her seat. Instead, she raises her head slowly and upon realizing Professor Underworld, and subsequently the rest of his class, was staring at her she smiled broadly and waved with her fingers at the other students.

Sensing that her moment was close, she puts her book away and sits straight.

“Miss Fiori, as I was saying, will be accompanying us this semester. In your syllabus, you’ll recall seeing that besides other things, this course will be focusing on the anatomy of the human figure, learning about the muscles and where they attach, the skeleton, drawing skin, and such. I expect you all to treat this matter with respect and the maturity that is required of all of you. I will not repeat myself, as you all know how strict we are in this regard.” He continues, stern, yet serene and so authoritative Persephone has to squeeze her thighs together for reasons beyond her.

She hasn’t really been paying attention to his lecture, but now she feels entranced by it. Persephone loves learning, and unlike many of her classmates, she loves her classes and the lectures. She might not know the first things about drawing, but she can clearly see that Professor Underworld is passionate about it and that he, while severe in his methods, must be a very good teacher. And so she remains, mesmerized by this discovery, hearing names of techniques and tools she can’t even begin to understand the meaning of, until shuffling calls her attention and she notices that all students are now moving around the classroom, searching through the various closets and cabinets for what she can only presume must be art supplies.

“Miss Fiori?” He calls her, and she stands up, understanding it’s her turn. 

Persephone’s hands fly to the front buttons of her coat, which had been fastened up all the way to her neck so as to keep her warm in the outfit she and Eros had picked together for today. And while everyone else seems to be distracted in the search of materials, Persephone unbuttons her coat in a shy manner, eyes lowered to the ground. She shimmies out of it in what she hopes is an elegant and becoming manner, and is suddenly struck with a wave of self-consciousness. 

Both she and Eros hadn’t really been sure what something comfortable and not layered meant when it came to drawing, but they both agreed that something light and a little oversized would do well. And so now here she stands, legs clad in thigh high white cotton stockings and a cute little matching Summer dress that left her shoulders and collarbone exposed. It isn’t too much, but she feels pretty in it. 

When she does dare raise her head, she is surprised to find Professor Underworld staring at her intently, something akin to curiosity searing her flesh through his gaze. She swallows thickly and walks towards him, aware of how different she might seem to all of the people present. Persephone was no stranger to the looks she received from others, with the deep caramel color of skin and full, rounded hips, she is more than aware of her appeal, but she still feels a little strange. 

Especially now as she stands beside Professor Underworld, who had taken his eyes away from her as soon as they had landed there. Having shed the thick layer of her coat, the once warm room isn’t as warm anymore, but her skin prickles hotly anyway at the proximity of the body near hers. 

“Today we will focus on the basic female anatomy. Nothing in specific, just the shape of the body, and how all the different parts come together in the drawing.” He explains, and everyone nods wordlessly. Persephone allows herself to examine the collection of students closely now. As her gaze sweeps across the room, someone catches her eye. A boy. She looks away from him immediately, feeling a little uneasy of his eyes on her. She discovers she doesn’t like the sensation much, and even after a few minutes have passed she still feels his gaze linger on her, unlike the eyes of all the other students, which simply analyze her as a subject of study.

_It’s just a boy Persephone, calm down, you can’t condemn him for staring._

And she doesn’t feel very comfortable with his particular way of staring, but she lets it go so as not to seem fuzzy on her very first day.

Besides that, everything goes smoothly. Professor Underworld produces a small, circular platform from one of the closets and he instructs Persephone to stand on it with her back straight, arms lose. And so she does, chin held high, shoulders set back, staring at nothing in particular at the end of the classroom while he speaks. At some point, he grabs her wrist tenderly and raises her arm, flexing it, all while pointing to the way her muscles move beneath the taut skin. She doesn’t feel like a pet on exhibition, as she had funnily thought she would, she feels...proud even. 

Everything else is blurry in her memory, except the feeling of his hands on her, guiding her arms in different positions, explaining the movement. His hands, drawing a line from the base of her neck to her ear while her head is turned to the side. She likes this position in particular, for it gives her an excuse to blatantly stare at him from up-close. A secret thrill runs through her when he asks for permission to touch her leg, and she finds herself mindlessly nodding and following him with her eyes as he puts a little pressure on her knee, bending it and explaining the way the muscles in her legs connect to create the arch beneath her knee. There’s a hidden sensuality to it all that does not escape her, even if she is the only one to feel it.

The experience is surreal, for her, in a way she never thought possible. For all his touches were done with the utmost respect, and in such a professional manner that Persephone almost felt ashamed of the shivers running down her spine and the goosebumps in her arms. She feels like a piece of art hanging up in a museum wall, his pragmatic voice and explanations taking her further away from the not too warm classroom and into a blissful state of serenity inside her mind.

But Persephone should have known that such serendipity wouldn’t have lasted.

After the class was over, she finds that her legs are numb in a pleasant manner do to all the standing she had done, but a vibrant, humming feeling coursed through her, giving her strength and vitality that had she wanted it, she thought, she could have trekked up the 60 stories of The Hancock and then come down again without a problem.

“You did a wonderful job today, Miss Fiori. What did you think?” Professor Underworld asks afterward, watching her intently as she slips back into her coat, her petite figure hiding once again behind the thick fabric. 

Persephone can’t help the smile on her face, wide and bright, even in the gloomy Autumn evening. “Thank you, Mr. Underworld! I have to admit, I felt very important standing there, like a statue in a museum.” She confesses, picking up her bag from the floor and cocking her head to the side, eyes trained on his own. He looks pleased, for he smiles back, nodding along. Some of his thick black curls bounce with the movement, falling across his face.

Persephone sees, with a dry mouth, how he pushes them back with the same hand he had touched her so daintily earlier.

“I’m very glad to hear that, you have nothing to envy those statues, you yourself didn’t fidget much.” He praises her and Persephone, if possible, smiles wider. 

“Thank you, it wasn’t as difficult as I thought. Should I wear something similar to this next week?” 

“Yes, we will continue with today’s class next week too.”

There’s a moment of silence while he fumbles through his desk, Persephone feels that her stay is overdue now that class is over. From the corner of her eyes she sees a couple of students who have stayed back, clearly with the intention of interrogating him. So she decides to make herself scarce, and with a small goodbye she bits Professor Underworld adieu, not waiting for his answer, but quickly and quietly (and a little deflated) slinking out of the room.

“Hey, wait!” Just as she steps through the door, a masculine voice stops her. Persephone frowns not recognizing it. A hand grabs her forearm demandingly, and she whips around, a little annoyed by their audacity. She comes face to face with the same boy from before.

Up close he seems to be her age if not two or three years older. Tall, much taller than her, then again almost everybody is. His face is manly and well defined, and she supposes he looks handsome enough, but nothing that demands her attention. 

“You’re Persephone, right?” He asks a boyish smile on his lips, a look on his face that lets her understand he means to be charming. Persephone scrunches her nose, deducing that no, she does not find him charming at all. She remembers the way he had looked at her earlier, and with this in mind, she yanks her arm away from his hand. His expression falters a little. 

“That’s my name, and you are?” She quirks an eyebrow, lips set in a subtle moue. Even if she’s a little on edge with him, she can’t bring herself to actually sound annoyed, and her slightly friendly tone must have set him off in the wrong direction, for he leans forward, arms braced against the wooden door frame, smiling flirtatiously at her. 

“I’m Apollo, I’m actually Artemis’ brother, I take it she’s your roommate?” He asks, and Persephone’s face lights up in recognition. She wonders how she hadn’t suspected him to be related to Artemis, what with their faces being so similar, from the light shade of their fair hair to the warm depth of their light brown eyes. But, she realizes grimly, Apollo lacks the warmthness in Artemis’ eyes. There’s something else there, something she doesn’t think she wants to find out at all.

“Oh, yeah, I think she has mentioned you. Nice to meet you.” She speaks a little more cordially now, a small friendly smile on her face. The boy, Apollo, runs a hand through his hair.

“Likewise, doll.” He winks at her, actually _winks._ “I can’t believe we haven’t met until now, what a coincidence, right? If you’re free after this, we can go to the Blue Bottle and get some coffee, get to know each other.” The words came out smoothly and practiced out of his mouth, paired with a smile that would have surely caused many a girl to falter and tremble. But not Persephone. She doesn’t even like coffee. 

_No, I don’t want to go drink some overpriced coffee with you._

Persephone feels uncomfortable yet again. She bites the inside of her cheek and takes a step back, half turning her body away from him. “I-I’m actually running late for something, I’m sorry. See you around.” She smiles awkwardly, bracing her bag closer to herself. His face falls a little bit as if he hadn’t been expecting her to reject him. Persephone took note of that, apparently, he wasn’t used to being told no. 

“Uh, ok, I guess I can take a raincheck.” The words are a little harsh as if he can’t believe he’s saying them.

Persephone doesn’t reply to that and instead walks away as quickly as her short legs allow her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure I should say this sooner rather than later, but the story is supposed to be slow-burn, so it will progress a little slow, but don't worry it will all pay off! And yeah, I know no one likes Apollo, but he had to come in at some point 😒
> 
> The Hancock: The John Hancock Tower, the tallest building in Boston.
> 
> Blue Bottle: An upity coffee shop in Harvard Square, nothing fancy, but certainly a little above your normal Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts.


	3. Self-Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone goes dancing, gets drunk, sad, and horny.
> 
> Never a good combination.

_“All students need to know about color is the basic color wheel and complementary colors. There are many books on color theory; do not waste your time and money.” Sergei Bongart._

Persephone’s favorite color is pink. 

Growing up, her mother loved to dress her in soft pastels and white dresses, and now, at the age of 19 and further from home than she has ever been before, Persephone finds herself deviating further and further from her mother’s color choices and approved style. Her skirts have only grown shorter with the passing of time, her pants tighter, blouses transparent and shorter. 

If only her mother could see her now, she would be faint with mortification. 

“WATCH OUT BOYS, PERSEPHONE’S OUT TONIGHT!” Eros yells, followed by a string of laughter from his girlfriend Psyche. Artemis rolls her eyes, chewing on her bubble gum louder. 

“Eros you dork, cut it.” She hisses, lowering her head as they pass a group of partygoers who had turned their heads to stare at them. Their little group strolls through the front lawn of the pseudo-fraternity house. It’s barely past 9 pm and it's already littered with signature red Solo cups and drunk young adults. The loud bass of the music coming from within the house shakes Persephone to her very bones. She is not impressed, nor surprised. She had thought, foolishly, that perhaps in Cambridge things would have been different, that Harvard would be this perfect image of academics and elegance. 

She should have known that teenagers were teenagers, no matter where. 

Once inside the house packed with people, Artemis disappears into the crowd, stating that she needs to find Hermes. Persephone shrugs, serving herself a drink and following Eros and Psyche like the horrible third wheel she is. Most days she feels pathetic, but tonight she only wants to get drunk, and she doesn’t care if she’s in the way. It’s not like her presence has stopped them before from getting too friendly with each other either.

And so she executes her plan as intended, drinks after drink, the night crawls on. Once her fingertips are buzzing, she knows she’d had enough for the night. But she doesn't stop there. Persephone is a sad horny drunk, but right now she’s just a sad little drunk. 

She leans back on the armchair she's sitting, closing her eyes and frowning. All the weight from the previous week falling onto her shoulders like a boulder.

“Ok, sweets, out with it. Something’s bothering you.” Someone speaks. Persephone blinks, only to find Eros standing in front of her. She looks around him, noticing Psyche is not near. Persephone lets out a sigh and takes another sip from her drink. She wants to throw up and cry. Maybe both at the same time. “Geez woman, you’re a pathetic drunk. Come on, you’ve had that face all evening.” 

Persephone clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and pouts. “Life sucks.” She shrugs, licking her lips. 

Eros rolls his eyes. “Shocker.”

But then something shifts. “Is it your mother again?” He asks tentatively. Persephone stiffens up and turns to face him. She moves a little too quickly, nausea bubbles up down her throat. Great, another thing to be sad about. 

“No, not this time.” She whispers. Begrudgingly, Persephone places her almost empty cup on a nearby coffee table. She scoots over on her chair and Eros takes it as his opportunity to sit down. They shift around until finally Persephone is curled up in his lap, the side of her face pressed against his chest. She can’t believe she’s about to cry like a baby at a party. The people around them pay them no attention anyway, everyone is either too drunk or too high to care. “I just feel strange.” She admits. She doesn’t tell why though. She tries not to think about why. 

“Wanna talk about it, doll?” Eros nugs her shoulder. Persephone rolls her bottom lip into her mouth and shrugs. She supposes it's better to talk about this with Eros rather than Artemis.

“I think I want to fuck a professor.” She blurts out suddenly, the alcohol in her system striping her of her usual inhibitions. Her cheeks burn a bright red, and not just because she’s been drinking. There’s a moment of silence before Eros bursts in laughter. She frowns. “Don’t laugh, I feel so weird! I’ve never liked any man that way before, and now I feel all hot when I think of him.” She whines, rolling her head back and giving him her best wounded-puppy eyes. Eros pats her head.

“You’re so pure my heart is about to burst. That’s normal, Kore. Who’s the lucky guy?” He pries as the fucking gossip he is. Persephone groans, burying her face on her hands in embarrassment. 

“It might or might not be Professor Underworld…” She draws out the last bit, trying to save some of her dignity, but of course, Eros catches it. He squeals in excitement, leaning forwards all of the sudden. Persephone yelps and holds tightly onto his arm. “Fuuuck you, Eros.” She says grumpily.

“Oh. My. God! I need details now! Aren’t you modeling naked for his class?” He questions, pulling her hands away from her reddened face. Persephone nods slowly. “I can see why you might feel weird, but shit girl, this man has been served to you on a golden platter. Is he married?” Eros is basically a talking machine, spitting thousands of questions in a matter of seconds. Persephone’s head spins, she can barely understand whatever he’s asking.

“I--I don’t know. And what do mean he’s served? Eros, it’s not like I'll try to sleep with him!” The sheer thought sends a shiver down her spine. Great, now she’s back at being a sad horny drunk. Eros smirks wickedly and adjusts Persephone on his lap.

“I mean exactly that. No man could see that sexy little bod of yours and remain the same. You’re a spiritual journey Persephone.” He mocks her, flipping her nose. Persephone slaps his hand away, pouting. “All joking aside, I’ve never really seen him. Is he as horrible as everyone says?” 

Persephone blushes even harder and shakes her head no frantically. “He’s stern, yes, but he’s good explaining. And he’s very sexy.” The last part escapes her mouth unbidden and causes Eros to laugh harder. She sighs miserably.

“I think your sexual frustration will prove to be very entertaining in the future.” 

“Who’s sexually frustrated?” A new voice chimes in. Persephone lifts her head, only to realize its Psyche, who’s now holding two red cups on her hands. Persephone scoots over Eros’ lap and pats his other thigh. Psyche joins them, bringing her knees up and planting a quick kiss on his mouth. Eros Puts his arms over both girls, keeping them close to him. 

“Perse wants to fuck Professor Underworld!” Eros sings songs cheerfully. Persephone jabs him with her elbow. Psyche’s eyes widened in surprise at the words.

“Hades Underworld?” She asks in disbelief. Persephone looks away but nods in embarrassment. “I mean...he’s kinda hot.” 

Persephone jumps up a this, smiling widely and high fiving Psyche. “I know right? And he’s so tall, I want to-” She cuts herself abruptly, catching up with her flow of verbal diarrhea. Eros and Psyche stare at her with humor clear in their eyes. Persephone shrinks back. “But yeah, that’s it. That’s _it.”_ She finishes off. Feeling a little awkward now, Persephone tries to change the topic of conversation. “So, I met Artemis’ brother yesterday.” 

Eros scoffs, “Apollo? I’m so sorry you had to. The guy is a dick.” 

Like always, Psyche proves herself to be the better half of the relationship and after pinching Eros’ arms she speaks up. “I’ve heard of him. I’m sure Eros is just being mean for no reason.”

Persephone laughs. “I mean, he tried to ask me out. He was rather insistent.” Now that she’s drunk and relaxed, she can laugh it off. 

“Persephone, whatever you do, stay away from that jerk. He’ll only give you syphilis or something, I swear Apollo is the biggest slut on campus, and that’s a lot coming from me!” He exclaims, but Psyche must have given him one of her infamous dirty looks, for he quickly corrects himself. “From my past self, of course.” 

“Guys, I love you.” She says all of a sudden, tears in her eyes. Eros and Psyche coo at her. Eros presses a kiss to the top of her head and Psyche squeezes Persephone’s hand.

“And we love you, Kore.” She says with a warm smile.

After that, they all agreed to go dancing, having reached the mutual consensus that the night was turning rather depressive, and that they all wanted to dance their shoes off. 

Persephone loves dancing. There’s something about getting lost in the music that offers her a brief pause from the constant loudness of her thoughts. She dances until she feels sore, and drinks until the floor spins beneath her. At one point, she spots Artemis in the crowd, and with wobbly steps, she approaches her tall friend.

“Artemis!” Persephone calls out, giggling stupidly, she clings to her arm. Artemis smiles at Persephone. Soon they’re both dancing. “Did you find Hermes?” Persephone shouts over the music, Artemis rolls her eyes but nods. 

“Yes, but I’ve lost him again. He’s probably somewhere getting high.” Persephone nods and presses herself closer to Artemis. Her body is covered in sweat, and her heartbeat pounds louder than the music. Persephone is still thinking about Professor Underworld and how much she would love to kiss him. 

The music slows down, and so does her breathing. Persephone focuses her blurry gaze on Artemis. Her heart thrums loudly as she leans closer. Artemis is so beautiful, with her long blonde hair and slender figure. Something moves her as she reaches for her girlfriend’s shoulder. Artemis opens her eyes, and Persephone stares into those brown eyes of her, filled with warmthness. She leans closer, breath growing heavier. Artemis leans down.

“Can I kiss you?” She asks, voice barely above a whisper. Artemis doesn’t answer, she just captures Persephone’s mouth in a slow kiss. Persephone moans, throwing her hands around Artemis’ neck, forgetting about all the people surrounding them. She presses her body closer, savoring her kiss, a tender warmth settling on her lower abdomen. It’s a slow kiss, but Artemis kisses wonderfully. She bites Persephone’s bottom lip, dragging it back after they pull apart.

When they’re done, Persephone’s panting and a sweet throbbing take place between her thighs. She buries her flushed face on Artemis’ chest and wills herself to ignore the loud cheers of the people who had witnessed the kiss, a silly smile on her face.

“That was good.” She says through a laugh. Artemis laughs too.

“Persephone?” She asks. Persephone pulls away, a little ashamed now that the kiss is over. She shouldn’t have kissed Artemis. Not when she was thinking about someone else. But she's too drunk to care, and so she tries to lean in for another kiss, but Artemis stops her. Persephone frowns a little.

“Yes?”

“You’re drunk, let’s get you home.”

Later that night laying in her bed, blinds down, lights off, she stares into the ceiling. Her skin feels hot, so hot she sits up and removes her dress, chest heaving against the lacy material of her bralette. There’s a thrumming pressure in between her thighs, her heart beats steadily inside her chest. She thinks about Artemis, who is now asleep in the room next to hers, and she wonders if things will go back to being the same. 

Her breasts tingle, and she is overcome with a sudden urge, unbidden in its presence. It demands her attention like nothing she’s felt before. Persephone squeezes her eyes shut, running a line with a finger from her ear to the base of her neck. Hot. Her skin is burning. She dares go further, down to her chest, and her back arches when she caresses her nipples with a feathery touch. A whimper escapes her, she’s always been so sensitive. Her breathing starts to pick up as she traces the lines of her body, mind drifting away, remembering the way his fingers drew imaginary angles on her knee, his searing touch, hot. Something flutters in her lower stomach, her hand stops. 

Persephone swallows thickly, guilt, and shame washing over her as realization dawns upon her. 

_What am I doing?_


	4. The Invitation pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone thinks about certain things and receives an invitation to a night out at the museum from someone most unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do want to begin this note with a little apology for taking this long to update. I know I don’t have to explain myself, but I guess a little explanation won’t hurt. I began this story with a very clear view in mind, I have my plot laid out, I know what I want and how to get there, but as of lately I’ve sat down to do some reflection on what I’m actually writing. Especially since Lore Olympus has been under some heat for this same topic, which is the dynamic between Hades and Persephone, with Hades being so much older than her. I realized that maybe inadvertently, what I wrote especially in this chapter might come across as Hades using his position to buy Persephone or bully her into a situation she’s not comfortable in like Apollo does. 
> 
> Now, I don’t particularly believe Hades displays predatory behavior towards Persephone in the comic, although I can easily see why it could be interpreted that way. I will never understand why the author decided to make the power imbalance so huge with her not only being a teenager but also a very naive and groomed one at that, but, no story is without a fault and I truly believe Rachel never meant any harm. 
> 
> That being said, I understand many people personally seem to have an issue with older men dating younger women, and this trope in particular (teacher/student) lends itself very easily to criticism on this aspect, which is why I wanted to be more careful with what I wrote and how I wrote it. I don’t want my story to be about a young woman being molested by an older man in a position of authority, don’t even want for it be read that way. I hope you can all understand now why I took so long. 
> 
> Thanks for being patient.

Persephone had once read somewhere that when two people kiss, they exchange between ten million and one billion bacteria. 

The thought seemingly spurred to the front of her mind out of nowhere after pulling her coat over her body once class was over, but in reality, she knew that it maybe had to do with the fact that she had been staring at his mouth for about a minute now.

She couldn’t help herself, even though she knew how pathetic that statement sounded. She was oddly fascinated with this man in such a sensuous manner it was driving her insane. It was everything about him. From the prominent curve of his nose to the strong angle of his jaw, the elegant bow of his mouth, and the way in which he seemed to tower over everyone else in the room. 

Guiltily, Persephone pulled her eyes away from him and focused instead on some of the things written on the chalkboards. Something about color theory or something like that. Truthfully, Persephone didn’t know much about color or the finer arts. She could barely draw a straight line, and the most artistic expression she’d ever had was when it came to her flowers. She loved arranging flowers, and back at home, she’d often help her mother with the herbarium and the plant nursery at the garden center. 

She’s never been special. Not really. Except for an exceptional green thumb and a mind for numbers. But being book smart wasn’t really a quality Persephone was proud of. If anything it was just a constant reminder of her childhood and what exactly had driven her into studying her ass off. 

Hades Underworld was something Persephone did not understand.

_Do I like him?_ The question swirled inside her head. She didn’t really know him, they hadn’t spoken anything outside school stuff, but with a grappling fear, she came to realize that no opposing thoughts had raised to answer that question. How can you like someone you don’t know? 

Persephone had never liked a man before. Her mother had been very strict about boys, and Persephone never had the chance to meet many with her being homeschooled and all. Before college, she’d only known Hermes, who she considered a cousin (but he wasn't really. We all have that cousin who isn’t really one) and Ares, the son of one of her mother’s customers who occasionally did some of the heavy liftings around the shop. Ares was street smart, rude, and boisterous. Insufferably annoying and way too self-absorbed. She’d never liked Ares, but she didn’t have to like him in order to do certain things.

She’d only kissed one boy before, and then again, they had been just teenagers back then. She hadn’t liked it. The kiss hadn’t blown her mind like girls in movies said, if anything, she’d been grossed when he tried to slip his tongue into her mouth. So much so, that she had sworn boys off ever since. But then again, that didn’t mean Persephone hadn’t done anything at all.

Her mother might have been strict with men visiting their home, but that didn’t mean women wouldn’t come around. Persephone couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment she knew she liked girls. She just knew. Her adolescence was filled with fleeting moments of stolen kisses and other _things_ with some of the girls her mother hired during the summer to help around the garden center. Persephone tried to remember each one of them, always. Their names and faces, and what they’d done together. She cherished those moments deeply.

But now this feeling was different.

She’d felt attraction like this before, just never so sudden and so intense. And never for a guy. 

What was this supposed to mean? Did this mean she was bi?

Lost inside her mind, Persephone didn't’ realize Apollo had walked over to where she stood until it was too late to avoid him. 

_Not again, please_

“Persephone, hey.” He smirks, leaning forward. Persephone freezes, her brain barely registering the fact that he had the audacity to push a strand of her hair behind her ear. Who does this guy think he is?

“Look, Apollo--” She begins, unconsciously taking a step back and bringing her hands in front of herself, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but he interrupts her.

“You look beautiful today, I know we didn’t talk much the other day, but I was thinking that maybe we could--”

“Yeah, not today loverboy. Get lost, jerk.” A new voice chimes in, effectively shutting him up. Persephone glances behind Apollo, relieved that she has been saved from having to reject him a second time. Her savior comes in the shape of a girl with a head of mousy hair with purple streaks. The girl is short, around Persephone’s height, but she looks as if she’s ready to take down a giant. 

“Megaera, would you mind your own business?” He seethes, looking positively irritated at her. Persephone decides she likes the girl immediately. 

“Actually, I’m really sorry Apollo, but I have to stay behind today.” She informs him, mustering enough courage to reject him a second time. She throws the girl, Megaera, a bright smile and the girl smiles back. 

“But Persephone--” He deflates, lips in a pout. Persephone has to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

“But nothing, you heard the lady, _goodbye_ Apollo.” Megaera insists, walking up to Persephone now and weaving her arm around Persephone’s, pulling her away from the awkward situation. 

“Maybe next time!” He calls from behind them and leaves begrudgingly. Persephone sighs in relief, eyeing the girl beside her with gratitude.

“I’m sorry for butting in, and grabbing you, but you seemed like you could use some help, and girls gotta stick together.” The girl explains, letting go of her arm as soon as Apollo leaves the classroom. Persephone laughs. “I’m Meg, by the way, nice to meet you.” She smiles now. Persephone smiles back, offering Meg her hand. 

“I’m Persephone nice to meet you too. Thanks for the help, he’s...a little insistent.” She shrugs at the last bit. The truth is, Persephone doesn’t know how many times this will keep happening, and she’s starting to fear he’s going to keep pulling this kind of shit on her during the whole semester. Sooner or later, she’ll have to just tell him she’s not interested, but she doesn’t know how exactly. She’ll deal with that when she has to, probably later. 

“If he’s making you uncomfortable, you can just tell Mr. Underworld. He’ll chastise his ass for it, won’t say he hadn’t had it coming anyway.” Meg laughs soundly at her own words, and Persephone can’t help chuckling a little too. She doesn’t know Apollo at all, but he does seem very irritating and full of himself. 

As if on cue, however, Mr. Underworld’s grave voice is heard as he explains something to a boy who stayed behind as well. Both Persephone and Meg turn their heads towards him, the former feels a blush creeping up her cheeks when she catches sight of him, masculine and handsome as he is. 

“He’s cute, ain’t he?” Meg suddenly whispers, and Persephone’s head snaps in her directions so fast she’s surprised it didn't’ whiplash. Her eyes are wide open in bewilderment. 

“You mean Professor Underworld?” She whispers back, stepping a little closer, afraid that somehow he’ll hear them, that somehow her thoughts and actions from Friday night would play like a movie above her head for everyone to see. Ridiculous she knows, but she’s afraid her face has already betrayed her. Damn her and her overly expressive nature!

“You do think he’s cute, huh? Good, I don’t trust people who don’t. I mean, look at him, I’d call him Daddy any day, anytime.” Persephone’s face is hot as a cup of coffee now, red as a tomato too, for such a small girl, Meg surely has quite a big mouth and raunchy thoughts. When Persephone looks at her, mortified, Meg only chuckles, shrugging, as if she hadn’t just given voice to some seriously sexual thoughts about the man standing mere feet away from them. “Don’t try to act like you wouldn’t, half the girls in this class have a crush on him, and those who don’t have got the hots for Apollo, which honestly, ew.” Meg scrunches her nose as she finishes the sentence. Persephone bites her bottom lip, somewhat relieved that she's not the only one who’s affected by him in this way. She feels less dirty, if it makes sense, less like a slut for wanting him. Even after two years away from home, Persephone still can’t shake her mother’s overbearing presence off her shoulders. It manifests in the way she thinks and views herself, and she absolutely hates it.

“I guess….I guess he’s kinda handsome.” She gives in, sheepishly. Meg elbows her playfully, giving her a conspiratorial wink. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” 

Persephone finds herself easing into conversation with Meg easily, a warm feeling in her chest at having made a new friend. Glad that she will have someone else to talk to besides Professor Underworld. Things were starting to fall into place, Persephone decides.

“Take care of yourself, Persephone! Remember, just give me a call if Apollo bothers you again!” Meg waves her goodbye, and Persephone hugs her tightly, promising in between a peal of laughter that she will. 

With a smile on her face, Persephone turns on her heels, jumping a little bit when she discovers Mr. Underworld standing behind her, eyebrow quirked. That goddamned blush creeping up her face almost immediately. “Uh, hi there.” She mumbles, self-aware of their proximity, of the fact that they seem to be alone now. Her breath hitches a little bit as she reminds the hot prickling of her skin...how was she supposed to talk to him now?

“I see you’ve made friends with Miss Fúria. It’s good to see you opening up to the class, helps make things less intimidating.” He observes, those breath-taking eyes of his boring down onto her own, robbing Persephone of her train of thought. 

_Answer him!_

Persephone has seldom found herself intimidated by someone in the way Mr. Underworld does. And not because she fears him, no, quite the contrary, she’s rather enamored with him. And the funniest thing is that she doesn’t know why she’s so attracted to him, the feelings that invade her whenever she’s with him unlike any other sort of attraction she’s felt before. This thing upon her is stronger, more demanding of her attention. 

She might have a crush on him, an unforeseen complication, but nothing she shouldn’t be able to manage. Hopefully. 

But her emotions are unstable, and sometimes she feels too much, and it feels like fighting against the waves of the ocean, and she’s scared of the magnitude of this new thing she’s discovering, the deepness of it all. If she’s lucky, she might escape this unscathed, with nothing more than a cracked heart

“Ah yes, I suppose you’re right. Us short people gotta stick together.” She laughs at her own joke and has to bite her tongue in order to stop herself from adding: _not like you would know_. He laughs too, a small throaty chuckle that twists her stomach into knots. 

“Miss Fiori, forgive me if I seem forward, but I was wondering if you were free this evening.” He asks, cocking his head to the side. She presses her lips into a thin line in order to avoid any sort of twitching. But then he continues: “The art department holds an annual exhibition tonight on campus which I will be curating this year. Some of my students will be coming, and there will be someone there I think you would like to meet.”

“Tonight? I can’t promise anything, but I think I might be able to sneak away from some homework for a little.” She smiles nervously because 1) Persephone _never_ has pending homework and 2) she’s just stalling because she feels all panicky on the inside.

  
“I understand, sorry for the short notice, but I just found out that a previous model I’ve worked with in class is in town and will be attending the exhibit. I read in your application file that you wanted to get into modeling? “

“Ah, yes, I’m afraid you’ve caught me. I’ve been looking for a job that could accommodate my schedule, but I don’t know anything about modeling really. Thank you for inviting me.” There was honesty in her words. Persephone’s situation was...a little tight regarding money. Thankfully, she’d managed a scholarship, but her student loans and housing fees were piling, and without her mother backing her up...she had to produce money on her own.

She’d rotated around apparel work and customer service for two years now, but those jobs had been exhausting and paid her miserably. If it weren’t for her Aunt Hestia slipping her some monthly checks behind her mother’s back, Persephone wouldn’t be able to afford her schooling. She owed so much to her aunt already, and when she’d heard that they were paying 30 dollars an hour at the art department, she could hardly say no to the opportunity. Some scouting around the classified section informed her of the quite lucrative modeling business, but she hadn’t been able to cut through until now. 

“It’s no problem, really. It’ll start around 7:00 pm, in the Fogg Museum, you can bring friends too, I love high attendance rates. Entrance is free for undergraduates, you just have to show your student ID.” He explained in a serene voice, leaning back on his desk as he spoke. Persephone worked her bag over her shoulder, nodding along with his words. 

“7:00 pm, got it. Uh, Mr. Underworld I--” She stopped herself and bit her bottom lip harshly, she had half a mind to tell him about Apollo, but finally decided against it. It’s not like he actually did anything wrong, he just wanted to ask her on a date. Persephone did not want to seem like a whiny bitch either. “Um, thank you, again.” She ended up mumbling, sucking on the inside of her cheek slightly and offering him an awkward smile.

He gave her a friendly smile, shrugging it off with a small gesture. “As I said, it’s nothing. I know how hard it can be to juggle work and academics. That being said, we’re going to start with more in detail drawings next class, this means you will have to be in your underwear. You can wear whatever you want, but a simple camisole and some shorts will do.” As he spoke, Persephone blushed slightly, picturing herself in her underwear. 

“Oh ok. Is that all?” She asked nervously, twirling a loose thread from her coat between her anxious fingers. Mr. Underworld nodded, clasping his hands in front of him. 

“Yeah, I think. See you later, Miss Fiori.” He said, sounding amused. By what exactly, she could not tell. Was it so obvious that she had a little crush on him? 

“O-ok. See you later.” She stuttered before turning around, minding each of her steps as she headed towards the door, knowing he was watching her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I didn’t mention above was in regard to what I think about younger women dating older men. It’s a complicated topic, and I would never deny that this sort of relationship does allow some ground for predatory behavior, but I firmly believe that it’s the people and not the nature of the relationship which might fuck it up. Just because a woman is young doesn’t mean she doesn’t know any better, and just because a man is older it doesn’t mean he’s taking advantage of anyone. The thing truly becomes a problem when a man simply wants to date younger women and refuses to date anything but. Also, waiting for a girl to turn legal is fucked up too. I’m speaking from a very personal place when I say this, and I also understand and respect the fact that my experience and those of my family members and friends are not necessarily the same as those of others. I hope we can agree to disagree. 
> 
> This chapter is part of a double update, please don't hate me for the lame chapter. Also, Meg's comment was rooted in the firm belief that almost every female employee at Underworld Corp wants to bang Hades. I have no proof but I don't doubt either.


End file.
